Unspoken Words
by NotAMuggle101
Summary: Draco has found himself circling the course of forbidden love. Such love that he himself is not sure of his placing, as the one of lowest status- has stolen his once hardened heart. (Oh and Hermione has fallen incredibly ill- keep that in mind)
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

'What do i care for that stupid mudblood?' Draco spat at Goyle, surprising him and causing a loud crash as Goyle's head hit the floor. 'I only asked you what happened to her seeing is she was in the hospital wing bobbling her sick head off!' replied the annoyed Goyle.

'Well why dont you run off to see for yourself if you care so much! Draco yelled at the angry Goyles back as he turned to leave.

The truth was, Draco Malfoy, the young Slytherin third year, had finaly started to care. And care for who? His friends? Crabbe? Goyle? No. Not them. It was she whom he never in his wildest dreams had given a higher staus than 'Mudblood.' Though even now he addressed her with the same disgust whikst speaking, he regretted it seconds after the words were spoken.

Draco hated himself for for this feeling. He had never felt it before and he did not want to start now. And he hated 'her' for putting him in this sorry state. He hated her for making him care, he hated her for his secret visits to the hospital wing to see if she was okay. He hated her for making him feel soft. But mostly, he hated her for making him love her so much.

Draco knew it wasnt possible, he knew she'd never feel the same way but he was helpless. Every book reminded him of her intelligence. Every walk to classrooms reminded him of her keenness. The brown curtains hanging untidely above his bed reminded bim of her umique hair. Ever step he took, everywhere he looked her spiritual presence was not ignored

. It was agony. He wished it would end, but everytime he saw her, his knees failed to keep him steady. He was trapped. Trapped in a cage, ith no key to open it from.

Trapped.

And it was all HER fault.


	2. Chapter 2

"She's a foul Mudblood!"

Draco kept reminding himself as he walked to the Potions class, Tuesday morning. "Get over it! She's useless!"

But how could he get over her? How? This was a question that had kept him awake every day after hours. But these long sleepless nights did not help him in his desperation to get over her. In fact, even though he denied it, it made his love even more prominent.

Lost in his thoughts, Draco did not realise where his legs were carrying him to, and before he knew it, the Potions classroom stood before him.

The class went surprisingly slow, He often looked about, his attention wandering elsewhere. The only class, which the Gryffindors and Slytherins attended together, and she, Draco's helpless love, had failed to attend it. The reality was that this very girl had been in the hospital wing for five consecutive days- too feeble to attend class, too feeble say a word. Draco heaved a long sigh, which was soon devoured by his mess of a potion and let the day continue as it was.

As potions class finished, similar thoughts made Draco's legs wander right at the door of the hospital wing, where _she_ lay asleep. Draco had not the heart to approach his next class and instead entered the quiet room.

Only one bed was occupied. It was occupied by _her,_ Draco's secret love.

The very same girl, who can never be his,

The one he hated, for making him love her.

The one with the most beautiful smile one could ever be fortunate enough to see. It was occupied…

… by Hermione Granger.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco approached Hermione cautiously, careful not to wake her up. He grabbed a chair and sat beside her. Sitting there, gazing into that gorgeous face made over a thousand thoughts flood into his mind- and in those few minutes, he had already gone out with Hermione, married her, and was playing with his ten year old son when a loud _thud_ interrupted his wild imaginations.

Coming out of hiss strange reveries made him realize what was going on. His right hand had been gently stroking Hermione's hair while his left, held hers. Embarrassed, he looked around to see where the noise came from. It turned out, that second period was now over and the voices of the blood traitor Weasel and Stinky Potter slowly became vivid.

On a sinking realization, Draco realized they were coming to visit his love and had to act quickly. He jumped out of his chair, pushed it aside and slid under Hermione's bed.

"They'll get it some other time, it's not like the league is over, what if-" Potters voice became loud as they entered the Wing.

Another thought swept through Draco's mind. They were talking about Quidditch at a time like this? Sitting in front of them was poor, weak Hermione and they did not have the GRACE to be QUIET! Draco flared silently inside his heart, careful not to make him heard.

Their Quidditch conversation soon died out and grabbed two chairs to sit next to Hermione. Silence. For a minute, both stared at her- making Draco feel a pang of jealousy which he hushed out by thinking,

"Don't be stupid, they're only looking." but he spoke too soon. Ron-uh Weasel, lifted his hand, and began stroking her hair, staring into her closed- yet still beautiful eyes.

Draco did not like it. They way Weasel stroked her, the way he held her, the way he looked at her- he did not like it at all. Draco began to feel hatred for that Blood Traitor more than ever.

But was it hatred? Or was it envy?

Draco then felt ashamed. He felt ashamed at himself for stooping so low to actually feel envious of a WEASLEY? No. Father would never approve. He would not approve at all. In fact he might even throw Dracoout of the house for this deed- let alone falling in love with a Mudblo- no- Muggleborn!

Yet Draco could not help loving her. He glared at Ron from under the bed and began to hate him even more. Draco hated him because he knew, that in the end- Hermione would choose Ron. He knew that no matter how much he tried, no matter how much he loved her- Hermione will never be his. And although he deemed crying as mundane- he felt a tear pour down his sunken face. Draco knew that Hermione did not care, nor love him and that he just had to get used to it. But how? That particular question remained unanswered.

The bell rang for third period and woke both Ron and Draco from their reveries and as soon s they both left, Draco crawled out of the bed, stood up, looked straight at Hermione and whispered,

"I- I'll see you later"

The hospital wing door closed, and Draco was nowhere in sight.


End file.
